Marcie flinched when the words flashed across her vision. TOP TABLE NOW! “I think we’re off the hook. Dad must be there, so he won’t be checking I’m home before curfew.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dad’s just put out a call to go to the top table.”
“He must have found out.”
“About?”
“The gold bolts. The attack on the Apollo Tower …”
“And …?”
The Eye sighed. “The city have finally declared war on the Blind Spot.”
“What?”
“I was going to tell you when you got back.”
“Shit.” Marcie stopped for a moment. “So that’s why the citizens are going home?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“Shit.”
“So if you need to get to the top table, what are you doing here?”
The security gates in front of Sal’s house opened. Frankie stepped outside, a thick coat wrapped around his enhanced frame. Marcie moved out of his way before ducking in through the closing gates.
“You’re going the wrong way again,” the Eye said.
“I need you to trust me. I also need you to log off but keep these glasses hidden from the other hackers.”
“What?”
“Please?”
“I suppose it’s no worse than anything else I’ve done. Please don’t hang me out to dry.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
Although Frankie had locked the front door behind him, the downstairs bathroom window hung open. When Marcie poked her head in, she found out why. While holding her breath against what had to be Frankie’s doing, she climbed through the small window, stepped down onto the toilet, and slipped into the hallway. Even the hallway reeked of the man’s voided bowels. How the hell did they live with that?
Marcie reached Sal’s room and tapped a gentle knock against the door before entering.
“You’ve got to let me know when you’re coming,” Sal said as Marcie pressed the cloaking device and materialised in front of him.
“Sorry. I needed to see you.” Marcie sat down on the bed next to him and held his hand. Just that physical contact sent her heart racing, and she watched Sal gulp, their connection electric. “I’ve missed you.”
“I … I’ve missed you too.” Click. Whir.
It had happened once before in real life, but a thousand times in her mind. Marcie leaned forward and kissed him. Maybe he expected it this time, because he kissed her back.
They broke apart and Marcie said, “I love you, Sal. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Your dad can try to keep me away, but it won’t work.”
“You too.” His face turned red and he quickly said, “I forgot to ask last time, where did that cloaking device come from?”
“I have a friend.”
“You have a lot of things I know nothing about.”
“And you will find out everything. I promise.”
“Wait a minute,” Sal said, “you’ve brought surveillance equipment into the Blind Spot. You know you can’t do that. It doesn’t matter that you’re Wrench’s daughter, they’ll still have to punish you.”
“I want you to come with me. See it for yourself.”
“What’s going on, Marce?”
“You’ll find out. I want you to remember that I had to do this, okay?”
A deeper frown than before.
“Okay?” Marcie said.
“Okay.”
Just before she stood up to leave, Marcie kissed Sal one last time. Would it be their last? Even though she wouldn’t be welcome in the city with her modifications, it might prove to be a friendlier environment than the Blind Spot after tonight. Were she in his situation, she’d never want to see him again. Sal idolised Frankie.
Maybe she’d do well in the city. Maybe she could get into seeking social gratification through lifts driven by empty platitudes. She could pretend to be happy in a meaningless job. At least the setting looked pretty.
Marcie clicked her cloaking device, stepped back out into the hallway, and closed Sal’s door behind her. She spoke so quietly he wouldn’t hear. “Goodbye, Salinger.”
Chapter 62
“I wish you’d slow down,” Sal said as Marcie ran through the Blind Spot. She tore through the red-light district, invisible thanks to her cloaking device. The snow kicked up at her feet.
If only she could slow down. But she’d delayed the inevitable for too long.
“I was always too young to see these parts of the Blind Spot. By the time I got old enough—” click, whir “—I couldn’t go out anymore.”
Not only did Marcie have to navigate the tight streets, but she also had to negotiate the exodus back to the city. The instruction from the top table remained in her vision when she entered the dark alleyway with the steel door at the end. She deactivated her cloaking device.
Three heavy bangs against the cold metal and Jean opened it. Ice ran through Marcie’s veins to see the woman, the tag still heavy on her ankle. Poison backed up on the tip of her tongue, but she gulped it back.
“Where have you been?” Jean said. “And what are those glasses about?”
“Marce,” Sal said, “what are you doing? They could kill you for this.”
Marcie shoved past Jean and climbed the stairs to the top table.
When Marcie entered the room, Frankie raised his eyebrows. “Are you filming this?”
“No! I’ve brought Sal with me.”
Frankie stood up so quickly his chair skittered away from him and crashed down with a loud crack!
Shank jumped up a second later, retrieved Frankie’s seat, and helped him sit again.
“What the hell are you doing, Marce?” Sal said.
The words locked in Marcie’s throat. She and her dad fixed one another for a second before Wrench said, “Well?” as if backing up Sal’s question.
It didn’t matter how many times she’d rehearsed it over the past few days, Marcie’s pulse pounded and her head spun. “I’m guessing you know there’s been another terrorist attack on the Apollo Tower?”
Gasps ran around the table and Wrench nodded. “That’s what this meeting’s about.”
“When were you going to tell us?” Pierre said. “I thought it was about the stabbing in the Blind Spot.”
But Marcie spoke before her dad could answer. “And they found a gold bolt at the restaurant that got blown up.”
“The one you ran through, you mean?” Frankie said.
“Yes, I ran through it, but I didn’t blow it up. I didn’t plant a gold bolt there.”
Wrench nodded again. “It looks like you’re not the only one being blamed for these attacks.”
“What the hell’s going on, Marce?” Sal said.
Marcie fished three gold bolts from her pocket and threw them Frankie’s way. They skidded across the table to him. Even now, he hid his deceit. The worst kind of rat. They could lie to their own mothers. Their own poorly sons.
Frankie said, “Where the hell did they come from?”
“He really hates you, doesn’t he?” Sal said. “I’ll talk to him.”
The offer sent a stabbing pain through Marcie’s heart and she nearly didn’t reveal it. But she’d played her hand now. She’d waited long enough. “I took them from your pocket, Frankie.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Frankie jumped to his feet, his chair crashing down again. “What?”
“I was visiting Sal earlier today and I went through your coat pocket. I found these in there.”
Wrench said, “Is that true, Frank?”
“No!”
“Marcie,” Sal said, “what are you doing? That’s my dad.”
“I saw you visiting an engineer the other day. Now I know you’ve had some work done on your forearm, but Jean told me they’d do pretty much anything for money. They perform horrible surgical procedures on children from the city.” Marcie put the glasses on the table. “Jean, do you think
they’d make gold bolts too?”
“I reckon so.”
This time Marcie focused on anyone but Frankie, the stocky man pressing his clenched fists on the table and leaning over them. “Those bolts have been at several of the terrorist attack sites, and I’ve been trying to clean them away before the city got a hold of them. The first one was when I got caught on camera by the cinema.”
Still on his feet, his thick jaw clenched, Frankie said, “So why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I wanted to be sure who the rat in the Blind Spot is. I knew it was you all along, especially as the bolts had mine and Mum’s initials on. Only a handful of people know that. I just needed the right evidence.” And she needed to put everything into place in the city first. “When you saw me near the blown-up cinema, you turned even more hostile. When you were showing me the Blind Spot, you talked about a war with the city like you welcomed it. You talked about how you couldn’t afford new lungs for Sal. I wouldn’t mind betting whoever you’re working with will give you the credits for them. I get it, it makes sense, and I’m not sure I’m even mad about it. I love Sal too.”
Frankie shook his head. “You’re on another planet. But let’s say you did find those bolts in my pocket. And that the nonsense you’re spouting is true. How can you prove it? It’s still your word against mine. You could have gotten those bolts from anywhere. You’ve already shown you’re a deceitful little—”
“Careful,” Wrench said.
Jean leaned in Frankie’s direction. “You have been acting weird over the past week or so, Frank. Like you knew Marcie was on to you. Now, I know you’re mean-spirited, but you’ve gone for her ever since she’s been at the table.”
The rage left Frankie and he dropped his head with a sigh. “It’s true, I’ve found it hard having Marcie here, but that doesn’t mean I’m plotting to take the Blind Spot down.”
“I think for now,” Wrench said, “you need to be locked away until we get this bullshit sorted out. I’m not sure there’s anything we can do to prevent this war, but I do know if there’s any chance Marcie’s got it right, then I don’t want you fighting beside me.”
The Monk cleared his throat. Marcie hadn’t heard him speak before. “I think you’re right to lock him up,” he said, “and I believe Marcie thinks she’s telling the truth, but I feel like there’s more of this story to tell. I don’t think we should be too hasty.”
Wrench dipped a nod at the Monk. “I trust your opinion. Very well. Lock him up, but make sure he’s treated right. Innocent until proven guilty.” He then turned to Frankie as if to speak. Instead, he sighed. “Please, someone take him away. I’ve got too much on my plate to deal with this now.”
The size of the man clearly meant little to Shank, who got to her feet and squared up to Frankie. Chest height, no more, her fingers twitched as if she craved an excuse to draw her knives. “Come on, we need to put you somewhere you can’t cause us any trouble.”
“I don’t know what she thinks she knows, son, but she’s got it wrong.”
Marcie slipped her glasses back on. “I’m sorry, Sal.”
But Sal didn’t reply. Instead, she listened to him sob on the other end of the line. Click, whir. However this resolved itself, she’d just lost the closest person to her since her mum had died.
Bang! Wrench slammed his fist against the table. “This meeting hasn’t gone as planned, but the fact remains; we’re at war. I want all of you to go home and rest for the night. We’ll meet back here tomorrow morning and plan how we’re going to deal with the threat. Pierre, on your way home, can you let all the hackers know we’re at one minute to midnight. It’s nearly time to shut Scala City down.”
A stoic nod, Pierre said a quiet, “Yep.”
Sal continued to sob. Just before Marcie removed her glasses, she whispered, “Goodbye, Sal.”
Marcie passed Jean on her way out. She might have just backed her up with Frankie, but the woman had produced the tag she still wore around her ankle. The sooner this war ended and she moved to the city, the better.
Chapter 63
Nick set the empty plate down on the breakfast bar and took a seat. All the lights were on in the kitchen, the night brighter than usual from where the city’s glow reflected off the snow. He struck a lighter and held it to the letter. A few seconds later, the flame caught the bottom, stretching up the side before spreading across the note. He put the letter on the plate.
It had taken him a couple of hours to get showered, dressed, clean the place, and put the noose away.
For the first time since he’d tried to kill himself, Nick opened the Wellbeing app. No lifts. A tap of the black box, the colours reversing, the Pandora hack showed him twenty-six messages. The middle of the night and people were still being horrible about him. He tapped Delete All.
Nick stood up. He adjusted his scarf in his reflection in the window, the itchy material nipping at the rope burns. But better that than he walk into the police station wearing a clear suicide attempt around his neck.
The streets were deserted, the few cars in the skylanes moving at three times their usual speed. The city was often quiet at one in the morning, but the terrorist attacks earlier that day had turned the place into a ghost town. The light pollution so strong, the glow of windows along the tall towers prevented him seeing the stars in the sky. Most nights they were lucky if they saw the moon.
The crunch of Nick’s steps through the snow, the deserted streets pulled him into himself. Was he doing the right thing? He pulled the memory stick from his pocket. An inch-long black piece of plastic, how could he be confident it had the information he needed? What if his friend from the Blind Spot hadn’t done as good a job as he thought he had? It had to be the weird hacker guy. The albino with the blood red eyes. Whatever it contained, he understood the veiled threat. His friend in the Blind Spot would soon make their friendship public. If he didn’t roll the dice on this, the city would investigate him anyway. Better he showed them what he had than hide away from the inevitable. Especially as the hacker had already prevented him from killing himself. He rubbed his neck. Not that hanging would have been an easy way out, but it would have been a way out nonetheless.
The police station matched the city’s aesthetics. A tall reflective building made from chrome and mirrors. A large blue badge dominated the front. Tinted mirrored glass, the huge section took up at least eight of the forty floors.
Just before he entered the building, Nick stopped. He’d not seen another soul since he’d left his house, yet the back of his neck tensed as if he had the attention of someone on him. As if someone walked behind him. Probably just paranoia.
Nick swayed, dizzy from looking up the front of the tall building. Until he walked through that door, he could turn around. What if they didn’t listen to him and took the information as an admission of guilt? But if what the letter said was true, Bruce had set up tens of trails leading back to him, so he already looked guilty. The purchasing of explosives, visits to the Blind Spot on his credit card, receipts for gold bolts. He even showed him spending money at all of the locations where the attacks had happened. But if they went to war with the Blind Spot, everything would be wiped anyway. How much did he really care about this life and this city?
Nick moved back a step and met the resistance of a hand in the centre of his back. It shoved him forwards.
The doors opened and Nick fell into the police station. The clumsy slap of his feet echoed through the vast foyer. Several officers turned to look at him. The memory stick in his right pinch, he held it up at them and said, “I have information about the people behind the terror attacks in the city.”
Chapter 64
As far as Marcie’s tag knew, she’d been in her bedroom all night. Maybe her dad had checked on her, and maybe he hadn’t, but as she approached her house, the lights were on downstairs, the silhouettes of at least eight to ten people in her kitchen. Just gone three in the morning, they probably wouldn’t get another chance to res
t until after this war ended. A small set of stairs led from the street to Marcie’s front door. While ascending them, she clicked her cloaking device to reveal herself. Her glasses still on, she said, “Sal, are you there?”
Click, whir.
They didn’t need to talk, she just needed him to listen. Again. When Marcie opened the front door, her dad and the entire top table—minus Frankie—were gathered in the kitchen. Several engineers and a couple of hackers sat with them. The Eye avoided looking at her, his skin paler than usual. “Thanks for the invite, Dad.”
“I thought you were upstairs.”
“You were supposed to think that.”
“Have you been in the city?”
Marcie straightened her back.
“You’ve got to stop running off like this. It’s not safe anywhere now. I really need to know where you are all the time. And how did you get the tag off?” His chin dropped. “You haven’t taken it off. Then how—”
The Eye squirmed in his seat, but she remained fixed on her dad. “Don’t worry about that. First, I’m the only one who can go out in the city because the rest of you will be spotted and imprisoned.”
“That doesn’t mean you should be out there.”
“You have to start trusting my judgement, Dad. I’m not a small kid anymore. I get how you feel. It’s frustrating to be trapped in your own home; believe me, I get that.”
Although Wrench opened his mouth as if he might respond, he closed it again.
“I need you all to listen to me and stop treating me like I’m useless. I have something to tell you.”
“Who’s been helping you?” Wrench said. “No way could you trick that tag on your own.”
Maybe the movement of her head gave it away. Wrench spun on the Eye, his roar more animal than human. “You!”
The screech of his chair as the Eye got to his feet, he stepped away from the table, knocking a mug from the worktop. It hit the floor with a loud crash! Shank snapped her knives into her hands.
The Blind Spot Page 23